Chapter 7
Sebastian held out his arm. When Eli looked at it in surprise, the photographer smiled. "I'm just being a gentleman," he said.
Eli eyed him. "Do you have a fever?" he asked dryly.
Sebastian chuckled. "Probably," he conceded. "I do seem to be kind of...hot."
The soft purr in his voice made Eli's stomach lurch again. He pretended to grimace over Sebastian's words, but he also took the other man's arm. "You're ridiculous," he said.
"Agreed," Sebastian said as he led the way across the sidewalk to a recessed glass doors nearby.
"Where is this?" Eli asked curiously as Sebastian swung one of the doors open and waved for him to go inside.
"Go inside and see," the photographer replied, still refusing to answer the question.
Eli frowned faintly, but finally walked into the building. What he saw inside made him gasp a little. He saw that he was standing in a long, open room with a polished wooden floor and plain white walls. Hung on those walls were dozens of pictures - no, not pictures, black-and-white photos, to be exact. He realized he was standing in an art gallery of some kind. The place seemed to be completely empty except for him and Sebastian.
"The owner of this gallery approached me a few months ago about adding a few of my photos to a photography exhibition he was going to be putting on," Sebastian said to Eli. "I didn't tell you about it because I wanted to surprise you. I know I should have, because you're my agent, but..."
"This is amazing," Eli said. "Where are your photos?"
"Over here. I asked the owner if he'd let me do a private showing for you tonight, and he agreed as long as I close the place up afterward." Sebastian explained as he led the way to a small group of photographs hanging on the wall about hallway along. "These are mine," he added.
Eli felt his breath catch when he saw the photos. Five of them were photos of people out on the street - including a man leaning against a telephone pole and smoking a cigarette, his lean face melancholy; two women talking while sitting on a bench, their hands a blur as they gestured to each other; a young woman in a park, her head half-bent a she wept silently; an old woman with a shopping basket on her arm, wearing a magnificent but ratty fur coat(In what had to be a hundred degree weather); and a man holding a baby in his arms, a look of tender love on his face as he rested his eyes on his child.
Eli felt a lump rising in his throat. Theses photos were even better than Sebastian's normal ones; he'd captured the flawed beauty of humanity in all of its glory. But then his eyes moved on to another small group of photos, and he gasped again when he saw the subject matter.
They were all of him. Four photographs featuring him, one of him caught in mid-sentence as he talked to someone, his head slightly turned and the smallest of smiles on his face; another of him talking on his cell phone, with an expression of happiness that told him this was a photo of him talking to Dave before they'd broken up; a third of him standing beside the table where the coffee was, talking to Carrie. The assistant was laughing, her face animated. The fourth photo was of him standing watching something; from the expression on his face, it was probably one of Sebastian's photo shoots. The look on his face mingled exasperation with some other emotion...maybe affection. Sebastian must have snapped it discretely in between his other shots of whatever model he'd been taking pictures of.
"Why do you have photos of me up?" he asked, turning to Sebastian with a frown.
"Because I wanted to show off the thing I love most," he replied promptly. "Don't worry; none of those photos are for sale. They're from my private Eli collection. I'd never part with them in a million years."
He frowned, not sure that he was happy about having photos of him displayed in public, even if they weren't for sale. "I'll ask the gallery owner to take them down, if it bothers you too much," Sebastian said.
He shrugged a little. "I guess it's all right. It just seems kind of strange, seeing myself up on the wall like that. But most people who look at these photos won't know who I am - all they'll see is what a talented photographer you are."
"I don't need much talent to make you look good," Sebastian replied.
Eli felt embarrassed by his words. "I think you're exaggerating, Sebastian."
"Not in my opinion," the photographer said simply, and the look in his eyes made Eli look away and catch his breath.
"Did you want to look at the rest of the exhibition? There are some really talented photographers being shown here."
"Yes, I'd love to," Eli replied eagerly.
They strolled slowly along, looking at the photographs on the wall. It was a stunning collection. The subject matter of most of the photographs was people, though there were a few landscape shots. One in particular really caught his eye. It was a photo of a child, sitting on a curb holding a teddy bear, with a backpack on her back. She was clearly waiting for someone. Her little face wore an expression of hope mingled with worry. Eli imagined that she was waiting for a parent to come pick her up. Was that parent late? Was that why she looked worried? Poor little thing.
"You like that one?" Sebastian asked from behind him.
"Yes. I know how she feels," Eli remarked a little sadly.
"What do you mean?"
"My parents got divorced when I was eight. I always hated waiting for my father to come and pick me up when it was his weekend to get me, because I always worried that he might not come. He didn't, a couple of times, because he was too busy at work. It was the worst feeling in the world, knowing that his work meant more to him than his son."
"I'm sorry, Eli," Sebastian said softly.
He sighed. "I got over it, but the memories of those feelings don't go away. I guess that's just a part of childhood, though. Disappointments, sad things...everybody has those. Nobody's childhood is idyllic."
"That’s for sure," Sebastian snorted. "My father was a functional alcoholic. He certainly never remembered to come pick me up at school or come to any of my school functions. Not even my high school graduation."
Eli turned to him. "Is that true? he really didn't come to your graduation?" he asked, feeling pity flash through him.
Sebastian shrugged. "No. I'm not sure that I would have wanted him to come, anyway; he would have made a scene and embarrassed me."
Eli stepped forward and touched his arm, feeling how rigid the muscles were under the black jacket. "I'm sorry, Sebastian," he said in turn.
The photographer grabbed his hand and lifted it to his lips, making his skin tingle. "You're a compassionate soul, Eli," he said.
He was having trouble breathing properly. Suddenly, he knew that he wanted very much for Sebastian to kiss him. As though he'd transmitted that wish telepathically, he saw Sebastian’s eyes go lidded and a hot light spring up in their depths. He took one step closer, two...until their bodies were nearly touching. His lips parted, a clear invitation, and one that Sebastian took. He reached out to cradle the sides of Eli's face with his long-fingered hands, and then he was leaning forward and his lips closed over Eli's...
He moaned. Sebastian's lips moved over his firmly, easily, in a sure manner that made him feel like his legs were turning to jelly under him. His hands made their way to Sebastian's shoulders, and closed over the black coat to hold on as he opened his mouth to admit Sebastian's tongue.
It glided into his mouth, stroking over his own tongue in a serpent-like rhythm. Sebastian's hands left his face and moved down to his waist, pulling him closer. The feel of the photographer's, lean, firm body rubbing against his made Eli shudder a little.
How long the kiss went on, he had no idea. When Sebastian finally pulled back, with a last sensual lick at his bottom lip, Eli stood there blinking. His brain was completely fried. "Wow," he husked after a moment.
"Yeah, I agree," Sebastian rasped. He reached out and ran a hand down the front of Eli's jacket. "I want to touch you," he said in a faintly growling voice, "So bad. I'm trying to be a good boy, Eli, but it's not easy."
He shuddered. He wanted Sebastian to touch him a much as the photographer wanted to touch him. But...It was too soon. He still didn't know how he felt about Sebastian, and he didn't want to lead him on. Seeing his expression, Sebastian sighed and withdrew his hand. I know, I know," he muttered. "I'll behave."
"I’m sorry, Sebastian," Eli said apologetically. "But I don't want you to get hurt if I'm not able to return your feelings for me. And you have to admit, it would hurt A LOT more if we were sleeping together and I still don't fall in love with you."
The photographer grimaced. "Truth hurts," he said tiredly. "And you're right."
"Should we continue our tour?" Eli asked tactfully. "I'd like to see the rest of the photographs."
“Sure," Sebastian walked away, and Eli went with him. He felt bad, even though he knew that what he'd done was for the best. If he didn't fall in love with Sebastian, the photographer would be shattered if they were already sleeping together when Eli rejected him. And he, himself, wouldn't feel that great if he was sleeping with Sebastian and he turned him down. In point of fact, he'd feel awful. Sebastian was his friend as well as his client. He didn't want to hurt his friend any more than he had to, if and when the time came for him to gently let Sebastian down.
After they'd looked at the entire collection of photographs, they left the gallery. Sebastian turned off the lights and locked up after them, and they headed for his Jaguar. "I really enjoyed that, Sebastian," Eli remarked.
"I'm glad you liked it. Do you want to go get a cup of coffee? Or do you want me to take you home?"
"I'd like to get a cup of coffee," Eli replied. That seemed like a good way to end what had been a generally pleasant date.
Sebastian nodded, looking pleased. "I know this diner that serves pretty good coffee, and they're open for 24 hours. None of that Starbucks fancy crap."
Eli laughed. "No one will ever accuse you of being fancy, Sebastian," he teased as he got into his side of the Jaguar.
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Sebastian held out his arm. When Eli looked at it in surprise, the photographer smiled. "I'm just being a gentleman," he said.
Eli eyed him. "Do you have a fever?" he asked dryly.
Sebastian chuckled. "Probably," he conceded. "I do seem to be kind of...hot."
The soft purr in his voice made Eli's stomach lurch again. He pretended to grimace over Sebastian's words, but he also took the other man's arm. "You're ridiculous," he said.
"Agreed," Sebastian said as he led the way across the sidewalk to a recessed glass doors nearby.
"Where is this?" Eli asked curiously as Sebastian swung one of the doors open and waved for him to go inside.
"Go inside and see," the photographer replied, still refusing to answer the question.
Eli frowned faintly, but finally walked into the building. What he saw inside made him gasp a little. He saw that he was standing in a long, open room with a polished wooden floor and plain white walls. Hung on those walls were dozens of pictures - no, not pictures, black-and-white photos, to be exact. He realized he was standing in an art gallery of some kind. The place seemed to be completely empty except for him and Sebastian.
"The owner of this gallery approached me a few months ago about adding a few of my photos to a photography exhibition he was going to be putting on," Sebastian said to Eli. "I didn't tell you about it because I wanted to surprise you. I know I should have, because you're my agent, but..."
"This is amazing," Eli said. "Where are your photos?"
"Over here. I asked the owner if he'd let me do a private showing for you tonight, and he agreed as long as I close the place up afterward." Sebastian explained as he led the way to a small group of photographs hanging on the wall about hallway along. "These are mine," he added.
Eli felt his breath catch when he saw the photos. Five of them were photos of people out on the street - including a man leaning against a telephone pole and smoking a cigarette, his lean face melancholy; two women talking while sitting on a bench, their hands a blur as they gestured to each other; a young woman in a park, her head half-bent a she wept silently; an old woman with a shopping basket on her arm, wearing a magnificent but ratty fur coat(In what had to be a hundred degree weather); and a man holding a baby in his arms, a look of tender love on his face as he rested his eyes on his child.
Eli felt a lump rising in his throat. Theses photos were even better than Sebastian's normal ones; he'd captured the flawed beauty of humanity in all of its glory. But then his eyes moved on to another small group of photos, and he gasped again when he saw the subject matter.
They were all of him. Four photographs featuring him, one of him caught in mid-sentence as he talked to someone, his head slightly turned and the smallest of smiles on his face; another of him talking on his cell phone, with an expression of happiness that told him this was a photo of him talking to Dave before they'd broken up; a third of him standing beside the table where the coffee was, talking to Carrie. The assistant was laughing, her face animated. The fourth photo was of him standing watching something; from the expression on his face, it was probably one of Sebastian's photo shoots. The look on his face mingled exasperation with some other emotion...maybe affection. Sebastian must have snapped it discretely in between his other shots of whatever model he'd been taking pictures of.
"Why do you have photos of me up?" he asked, turning to Sebastian with a frown.
"Because I wanted to show off the thing I love most," he replied promptly. "Don't worry; none of those photos are for sale. They're from my private Eli collection. I'd never part with them in a million years."
He frowned, not sure that he was happy about having photos of him displayed in public, even if they weren't for sale. "I'll ask the gallery owner to take them down, if it bothers you too much," Sebastian said.
He shrugged a little. "I guess it's all right. It just seems kind of strange, seeing myself up on the wall like that. But most people who look at these photos won't know who I am - all they'll see is what a talented photographer you are."
"I don't need much talent to make you look good," Sebastian replied.
Eli felt embarrassed by his words. "I think you're exaggerating, Sebastian."
"Not in my opinion," the photographer said simply, and the look in his eyes made Eli look away and catch his breath.
"Did you want to look at the rest of the exhibition? There are some really talented photographers being shown here."
"Yes, I'd love to," Eli replied eagerly.
They strolled slowly along, looking at the photographs on the wall. It was a stunning collection. The subject matter of most of the photographs was people, though there were a few landscape shots. One in particular really caught his eye. It was a photo of a child, sitting on a curb holding a teddy bear, with a backpack on her back. She was clearly waiting for someone. Her little face wore an expression of hope mingled with worry. Eli imagined that she was waiting for a parent to come pick her up. Was that parent late? Was that why she looked worried? Poor little thing.
"You like that one?" Sebastian asked from behind him.
"Yes. I know how she feels," Eli remarked a little sadly.
"What do you mean?"
"My parents got divorced when I was eight. I always hated waiting for my father to come and pick me up when it was his weekend to get me, because I always worried that he might not come. He didn't, a couple of times, because he was too busy at work. It was the worst feeling in the world, knowing that his work meant more to him than his son."
"I'm sorry, Eli," Sebastian said softly.
He sighed. "I got over it, but the memories of those feelings don't go away. I guess that's just a part of childhood, though. Disappointments, sad things...everybody has those. Nobody's childhood is idyllic."
"That’s for sure," Sebastian snorted. "My father was a functional alcoholic. He certainly never remembered to come pick me up at school or come to any of my school functions. Not even my high school graduation."
Eli turned to him. "Is that true? he really didn't come to your graduation?" he asked, feeling pity flash through him.
Sebastian shrugged. "No. I'm not sure that I would have wanted him to come, anyway; he would have made a scene and embarrassed me."
Eli stepped forward and touched his arm, feeling how rigid the muscles were under the black jacket. "I'm sorry, Sebastian," he said in turn.
The photographer grabbed his hand and lifted it to his lips, making his skin tingle. "You're a compassionate soul, Eli," he said.
He was having trouble breathing properly. Suddenly, he knew that he wanted very much for Sebastian to kiss him. As though he'd transmitted that wish telepathically, he saw Sebastian’s eyes go lidded and a hot light spring up in their depths. He took one step closer, two...until their bodies were nearly touching. His lips parted, a clear invitation, and one that Sebastian took. He reached out to cradle the sides of Eli's face with his long-fingered hands, and then he was leaning forward and his lips closed over Eli's...
He moaned. Sebastian's lips moved over his firmly, easily, in a sure manner that made him feel like his legs were turning to jelly under him. His hands made their way to Sebastian's shoulders, and closed over the black coat to hold on as he opened his mouth to admit Sebastian's tongue.
It glided into his mouth, stroking over his own tongue in a serpent-like rhythm. Sebastian's hands left his face and moved down to his waist, pulling him closer. The feel of the photographer's, lean, firm body rubbing against his made Eli shudder a little.
How long the kiss went on, he had no idea. When Sebastian finally pulled back, with a last sensual lick at his bottom lip, Eli stood there blinking. His brain was completely fried. "Wow," he husked after a moment.
"Yeah, I agree," Sebastian rasped. He reached out and ran a hand down the front of Eli's jacket. "I want to touch you," he said in a faintly growling voice, "So bad. I'm trying to be a good boy, Eli, but it's not easy."
He shuddered. He wanted Sebastian to touch him a much as the photographer wanted to touch him. But...It was too soon. He still didn't know how he felt about Sebastian, and he didn't want to lead him on. Seeing his expression, Sebastian sighed and withdrew his hand. I know, I know," he muttered. "I'll behave."
"I’m sorry, Sebastian," Eli said apologetically. "But I don't want you to get hurt if I'm not able to return your feelings for me. And you have to admit, it would hurt A LOT more if we were sleeping together and I still don't fall in love with you."
The photographer grimaced. "Truth hurts," he said tiredly. "And you're right."
"Should we continue our tour?" Eli asked tactfully. "I'd like to see the rest of the photographs."
“Sure," Sebastian walked away, and Eli went with him. He felt bad, even though he knew that what he'd done was for the best. If he didn't fall in love with Sebastian, the photographer would be shattered if they were already sleeping together when Eli rejected him. And he, himself, wouldn't feel that great if he was sleeping with Sebastian and he turned him down. In point of fact, he'd feel awful. Sebastian was his friend as well as his client. He didn't want to hurt his friend any more than he had to, if and when the time came for him to gently let Sebastian down.
After they'd looked at the entire collection of photographs, they left the gallery. Sebastian turned off the lights and locked up after them, and they headed for his Jaguar. "I really enjoyed that, Sebastian," Eli remarked.
"I'm glad you liked it. Do you want to go get a cup of coffee? Or do you want me to take you home?"
"I'd like to get a cup of coffee," Eli replied. That seemed like a good way to end what had been a generally pleasant date.
Sebastian nodded, looking pleased. "I know this diner that serves pretty good coffee, and they're open for 24 hours. None of that Starbucks fancy crap."
Eli laughed. "No one will ever accuse you of being fancy, Sebastian," he teased as he got into his side of the Jaguar.
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